A Cursed Engagement
by Golden Boots
Summary: Darla misses Drusilla. Lindsey, slave to vampire-Darla and Angelus, understands but can he give her what she really needs? This is an Alternate Universe story set during Season Two. Angel gave in to Darla's request to turn her into a vampire, knew a moment of perfect happiness and became Angelus again. USUAL DISCLAIMERS APPLY. Icon credit: xlivvielockex on LiveJournal


There was noise. There was light. It took Lindsey McDonald half an hour to make the connection between these two events and the fact that the door to the cellar was now standing open.

It took him another half an hour to work up the courage to climb the stairs and creep out.

The bedroom drapes were closed, thankfully, so his eyes were not hurt by the light. After two weeks of being Angelus and Darla's slave locked in the cellar of some abandoned grand house, he was unused to any kind of brightness at all. He looked around the room for clothing and, more importantly, the keys to his handcuffs. Oh, he knew this room so well, knew what secrets were stuffed in the drawers and under the king-size bed: the dildos, the gags, the spreader bars. The branding iron.

There was an elegant walnut dressing table under the window with a bevelled mirror. He caught sight of himself in it, and couldn't help but turn and look over his shoulder at his own reflection, reliving the horror again. On his haunches there sat a mark. – a huge scab in the shape of a lower case 'a', as in Angelus' signature. He replayed how it got there.

He'd thought this would be it, him bent over a table, arms stretched out in front of him and pinned by Darla, who was laughing in his face. Behind him, Angelus slammed into his ass with no holding back, grunting and slapping him as he did so. This – this was humiliating enough. Lindsey had wanted to die. Then he'd heard the hiss and realised the brazier and branding iron were not just for show. Pain like he'd never known had flooded him as the flesh above his right buttock burned. He'd screamed, every muscle in his body clenching, including those that ruled his bowels.

The feeling of Lindsey's ass strangling his cock was clearly what Angelus had been after and with a yell louder than Lindsey's own, the vampire had released a torrent of cum inside his enemy.

That event had marked the beginning of the end of Lindsey's erotic explorations. Yes, he was being held there against his will and, yes, he wanted to escape but there had been a part of him that was thrilled by his enslavement, a dark masochistic streak that he'd kept suppressed for many years. And because Darla had wanted to 'keep him pretty', Angelus had visited no serious damage upon him. Until now. The branding had been a step too far. In the three days since it had taken place, he had failed to become erect during their nightly playdates. This had to end.

Lindsey moved towards the bathroom.

"I have some antiseptic cream, if you want it."

He jumped like a skittish horse. Slowly, he slid his green eyes round towards the direction from which the voice had come.

She'd been there all along, watching him. Darla was curled up in one of the great ormolu chairs. One hand held the tube of medicine out to him; the other was bunched beneath her chin. She chewed on her thumbnail as she looked up at him with nervous eyes.

For a long time, they gazed at each other, each trying to figure out who would make the next move. Then Lindsey spoke. "I can't put it on while my hands are shackled together."

Darla jumped to her feet as if he'd issued a command and reached into her cleavage for the key. She unlocked the handcuffs, carefully pulling out the slender steel chain they'd added to loop through the new hole in Lindsey's prosthetic hand. "Pretty bracelets," she murmured, running her fingertips over the bruises on his wrists then looked up into his face with an expression he could only interpret as regret.

He looked down at her, frowning, realising how small she was. Still feeling confused, he wandered into the bathroom.

The cream was soothing, numbing. He let his forehead rest against the cool bathroom mirror for a while, enjoying this temporary relief from pain, then performed his ablutions. When he re-emerged, Darla was pacing the bedroom. There was no point in trying to escape right now. She could easily overpower him, even in the heels and pencil skirt she was wearing. He had to bide his time because something was different – oh yes, something was different. He hadn't seen her so agitated since she was human. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the coverlet over his lap.

Darla stopped in her tracks and looked at him, eyes like lasers, arms hanging straight down at her sides. "I'm not normal," she said.

Lindsey snorted at the irony, glancing briefly to one side. "You're a vampire."

"I wasn't normal before I became a vampire."

He shrugged. "Who is normal, really, when you come down to it?"

"That's a modern way of thinking," said Darla. She resumed her pacing. "A very, _very_ modern way of thinking. I wasn't born into the modern era."

"From my understanding, you were an unrepentant sinner before you became a vampire. A whore. What do you care about what's normal?"

She settled herself in the chair again, opposite him. She changed tack, pretty face becoming wistful. "I miss Drusilla."

"She's your granddaughter. I'm not surprised."

"I miss – making love with her."

Lindsey blinked. Flashes of bare female flesh passed through his mind. "Then find her. Or find yourself another vampire girl to play with."

Darla's look was hot but somehow defensive. "What about a human girl? But a human girl would be disgusted, wouldn't she? It's only because Dru and I are vampires that we did the things we did."

"There is such a thing as gay people, you know." His voice was gentle.

"But the average person is disgusted by it, aren't they? _You're_ disgusted by it."

"No, I'm not!" he laughed. "Not at all."

"I don't believe you," she whispered. "You're just being 'modern'."

"I'm telling the truth. In fact, if anything, I'm – intrigued by it." He carefully avoided words like 'aroused' but when the little blond thing broke into a hopeful smile, he couldn't help but smile back.

"Really? But Angelus wouldn't like it, not if he ever guessed that's where my true desires lie. I don't want to do the things he makes me do, you know."

The lawyer's expression soured, his characteristic slight frown returning. "Coulda fooled me." He recalled her laughter, her orgasms.

"It's true!" She crossed to him and knelt at his feet. "Haven't you noticed me trying to catch your eye, trying to tell you that I'm s-s-sorry?"

"Sorry," he replied, shaking his head, "but no."

"If I don't engage with what he's doing, I'm done for. You have no idea of the extremes of cruelty one vampire can put another vampire through. All I want to do is make love to another woman – bite her, drink her blood, yes, but not torture her. Not all vampires are the same."

Those green glass eyes, strikingly similar in shade to his own, were so earnest, he found himself dipping his head to affirm her statement. And when a tear emerged from one, he took her in his arms and stroked her hair while she cried herself out on his breast. "Okay, I believe you," he said.

When she'd done, she looked up and tried to smile, stroking his hair in return. "It gets blonder when it gets longer," she remarked, fondling the sun-kissed tips.

"Yeah, it does," he said with amusement.

It was long enough at the moment to just brush his neck. Darla tipped her head contemplatively and made fists around his hair on either side of his head. Little bunches. They both laughed wryly. "If I let you go, will you come with me? Will you help me integrate into this new world? You seem to know so much about this modern gay stuff."

"I don't really," he said, "but, yeah, I'll help you. I'll help you, Darla." It was like old times, a wounded, lonely thing turning to him for help.

She began throwing things into a suitcase – clothes, toiletries, other girlie accoutrements. She seemed excited, vibrating with nerves. Lindsey watched her move with an enchanted smile upon his lips – the way her flaxen hair got all mussed as she rushed, sticking to her face. The way her little tongue crept out and wiggled in the corner of her mouth like she was a six year old doing a tricky sum. He imagined that mouth approaching a pair of panties stretched tight across a young pussy – her lips nosing their dampness, her tongue creeping under the frilly hem to lap the juice that trickled. "Have you ever had sex with a human woman?" he found himself asking, his low voice even huskier than usual.

"Oh no," she said with a bashful, one-shouldered shrug. "I suppose you could say I've been in denial." She laid out a skirt and blouse beside him on the bed. "Sometimes, when I'm with a man, I pretend –" She caught herself and shook her head. "No, I shouldn't say."

"Now, don't be a damn fool! You know you can tell me anything." He caught her hand in both of his, one warm, one cool. "Please."

She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked at him shyly. "Sometimes, when I'm with a man – especially if he's a very beautiful man – I imagine I'm kissing a woman. Especially if he has very beautiful lips, full and soft." She stared at his mouth.

He'd often been complimented on his lips – their shape and what they could do. Did she mean she'd imagined she was kissing a woman when she'd been kissing him?

Darla sank towards him as if her breast were joined to his by an invisible thread. Suddenly, their lips were centimetres apart. It was inevitable. They kissed. He'd never been kissed like this by Darla before. The only time he'd been kissed like this by any woman was that time he'd fucked a darling schoolgirl in the back of his daddy's Chevy the summer before he left Oklahoma for college. It had been her kisses, not her words, that told him she was a virgin. Her sweet cunt had tasted like sherbert; felt like a velvet vice around his cock. He'd tasted her tears, too. Her cries of pain and pleasure still rang in his ears on lonely nights.

The lovely vampire planted gentle kiss after gentle kiss on his lips. Her tongue flicked at him uncertainly. He kissed her back with the same delicacy until she slid between his spread knees and pressed herself against him. Then his kisses grew lingering and passionate. Eventually, she lifted up her head and offered him her neck which he took, showering kisses upon it. "Oh Lindsey," she cried. "I love women!"

A thrill ran through him.

Darla looked down at him with eyes that seemed drowned in sensuality. Never dropping her gaze, she lifted the white blouse from the bed and drew it up over his shoulders. There was no point in trying to bring it across his ample chest and she simply tied it in a knot beneath his breastbone. His hair went into those bunches. She wrapped the blue and white pleated skirt about his waist and fixed it there with Velcro fastenings.

What the hell was happening? Why was he letting her do this? The skirt was so similar to the one his schoolgirl had worn that late summer's afternoon that blood jolted into his cock, lifting the hem. Christ, he longed to be a woman right now, to feel what a lesbian might feel – to feel what a sweet, guilty, virginal lesbian would feel when a woman stroked her pussy for the first time.

Darla slid her hand across his pectorals and down to his left nipple, just touching the tip with a light finger. She gasped. Lindsey felt her quiver through the arm he had wrapped around her waist. "Feels naughty," she breathed. Her fingertip went round and round until his nipple grew hard, and he drew in air sharply between his teeth. But it still didn't look like a girl's nipple – didn't have that engorged quality.

The blond vampire picked up a tube of lipstick (had she had all of this planned?) and slowly painted dark pink circles around one nipple then the other.

Lindsey's chest heaved. Two little points of electric sharpness had now taken up residence in his breast.

Darla lifted her baby pink top and pulled down the cup of her white bra to expose one of her own breasts. Before Lindsey had the chance to take it between his fingers or lips, she lowered herself, holding her breast steady with one hand and rubbed the nipple against his. It was long and swollen with her excitement, bending as she rubbed it in circles, some of the pink lipstick transferring to her.

Lindsey let out a high-pitched whimper. It sounded so similar to the noises some men make on the verge of orgasm that she stopped and looked into his face, gauging his arousal.

Their faces were level, kissing level. Just before Lindsey's mouth met hers, Darla brought up the pink lipstick again and smeared it across his top lip.

He froze, entranced, afraid.

She took her time making him up, her own mouth pouting in sympathy. Those full lips of his were ripe for this. The unwitting sneer that graced his top lip created a heavenly Cupid's bow. Darla finished and sat back to admire her handiwork.

The handsome lawyer looked at her with a pleading expression, desperate not to be laughed at. He looked dreadfully sensuous – utterly fuckable. She dived in and kissed him again, this time plunging deep into the kiss, tongues meeting and stroking each other. Once he initiated it, she allowed him to plunge his tongue between her lips over and over, as if it were a little cock. When they broke the kiss, the sight of lipstick smeared across each other's mouths excited them both beyond measure.

"Lindsey," she said breathlessly. "Do you go down on girls?"

"Yeah," he said, hands on her hips.

"Do you like going down on girls?"

"Yes, of course I do."

She frowned. "You don't find it disgusting then? I mean, some people do. The smell…"

"No, not at all. All girls taste different anyways."

"In what way?"

"Well, some taste musky, almost spicy. When a guy's really turned on that can turn him on even more. Some girls hardly taste of anything at all. And some taste sweet as –"

(Flash of the darlin' schoolgirl again)

"- sherbert."

Darla paused, looking pensive. "But you do it _for_ them, don't you? You do it to bring them pleasure not to bring yourself pleasure."

"Both. I like how soft it is, how intimate. I like to make a woman come not just because it pleases her but because I like to feel her bucking and spurting her juices against my mouth." He held his face very close to hers, rubbed her nose with his, kissed her lips so lightly. "It makes me hard," he whispered. "I like it." His Southern accent had never been so sexy.

She was breathing heavily now. "What do you call it," she asked, "in your head? Going down? Eating pie?"

"Lapping pussy." His term, what he said to himself when he was stroking himself off. Of all the crazy things that could happen right now, the craziest was feeling himself blush.

Darla's hair fell forward and shadowed her face with its trembling lips. "Lindsey, sweet Lindsey, dare I ask it? Would you - lap my pussy for me? Would one girl do that for another girl? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just need this. I'm so ashamed…"

He answered her with a kiss. Then he moved her round to the bed and lay her back on it oh-so-gently. "Don't be ashamed," he said. He ran a hand down the centre of her chest and belly, then hooked his fingers under her pencil skirt, pushing it up to her waist. Little white panties appeared, making him smile. Her belly quivered as he traced the lacy edge with his fingertips before pulling them down inch by painstaking inch. He drew them off entirely and there it was, her bare little cunt. His smiling mouth descended but suddenly, Darla's hands were on his shoulders, holding him back.

"Oh, pretty Lindsey, are you sure? Are you a lesbian? Do you really love pussy?"

"I love it," he said and her hands moved up to his face, stroking his bunches, rubbing at the remnant of lipstick. "I'm a lesbian." Rightness thronged in him – an urgent sexual energy. He allowed his lips to settle over Darla's bewitching snatch.

She jolted, sitting up for a second before falling back onto the bed to moan and writhe while Lindsey began his pussy-lapping.

There was very little flavour. Her vampire body was built like that of any other woman and she produced juice when stimulated but there was none of the familiar musk hitting the back of his throat. Her flesh was cool but he liked the way it became warm as his hot mouth roamed over it. He stuck out his tongue and made it into a point and touched her with it.

"That's my clit!" she gasped, staring down at him.

Holding her gaze, he circled her clitoris agonisingly slowly. The little thing showed him how excited it was, twitching and withdrawing inside its hood. He tongued that hood all the way up to her mound then sucked it into his mouth, his tongue licking between her labia with every soft pull. Looking along her body, he could see Darla's head rolling from side to side. She had her top and bra up, and she was fondling her own breasts, massaging them and pulling on the nipples. Lindsey slipped his left hand inside his filmy blouse and began to roll one of his own nipples, imagining it was attached to lovely soft breasts of his own. He brought up his other hand, palm up, and inserted two hard prosthetic fingers into her slit. They couldn't go far – the rest of his hand got in the way. He held them at the entrance and vibrated them.

Suddenly, there was a fresh spurt of juice and Darla's head had come up. She was gasping. "Don't stop. Don't stop. I'm gonna come!"

And she did, ramming her pelvis at him, screaming out with every spasm, the flesh of her shaven pussy everywhere around him. She put her hands between her legs and held his singing head in place until her violent spasms had ceased. "Oh Lindsey," she crooned as she came down, "you're so good to me."

He rose and came up level with her. She took his face in her hands and licked the juice from his jaws – long, sweeping licks as if imagining his lips were another pussy. She made her tongue thick and slid it into his mouth, fucking him with it the way he had done to her.

It seemed her orgasm had not diminished her gay desires and Lindsey was glad of it. His cock was engorged, the circumcised head rosier than the rest of it and looking fit to burst.

As one, they sat up, Darla immediately straddling him. She ran her hands over his chest garlanded by the cotton blouse, looking down at her own body at the same time. "Don't we look pretty together?" she said.

He nodded, looping an arm around her hips and attempting to drew her crotch closer to his.

"Oh, my love," she breathed, "we're not bad girls, are we? We're just girls who like to tickle each other and make each other moan. Is it a wickedness, Lindsey? Is it wicked to want to suckle on nipples and clits, and make the love juice come out? Is it bad to want to come?" With a plaintive expression on her flushed face, Darla laid one of her thighs over Lindsey's and lifted his other thigh so it was on top of hers. Now clamped in the scissors position, her still wet pussy mashed against his cock and balls, she began to grind her hips against him.

The young lawyer in the schoolgirl's clothes responded, his own hips circling in time with hers and demonstrating a surprising flexibility. There was wetness and swollen flesh, hard things, soft things. Darla put back her head, laughing along with her moans, her small, pear-shaped breasts jiggling right in front of his eyes. He wanted to squeeze them but he was forced to prop himself up with arms like girders for fear her violent movements would throw him from the bed. He feasted his eyes upon them instead as his climax built.

Like many women, vampire or no, once Darla had come she could come again pretty quickly. Leaning in so her clitoris was pressed against his shaft, she bared her human teeth and vibrated her pelvis, and suddenly, she was shouting to the heavens.

Lindsey grabbed her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and prepared to plunge inside her.

Her face came level with his and transmuted into vamp face. There was an evil laugh. She grasped his cock just below the head and pinched it, forcing his orgasm back down inside him.

Lindsey hissed and looked at her pleadingly, confused.

A slow handclap sounded on his right, soon accompanied by a low, menacing chuckle. A man stepped out of the shadows.

Angelus.

"No!" cried Lindsey, twisting away from the vampire lovers but it was impossible. Darla would tear off his prick if he tried to escape.

"That was quite the floorshow, my delicious Darla," said Angelus, grinning widely, wickedness sparkling in his black eyes. "And _you_ , my pretty little slut – who would ever have thought you were a lesbian?"

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later." He came and stood beside the bed, his height making him loom over the smaller prone man. "How about a kiss first?" He grabbed Lindsey's bunches.

"Wait! He needs a lipstick retouch." Darla painted thick rose pink on his lips, more sloppily this time, not aiming for precision and not aided by the fact Lindsey was spitting obscenities while she did so.

"You bitch! You cunt!" the cross-dressed lawyer spat.

"Ooh, this little slut's got a filthy mouth," laughed Angelus and slapped him hard across the cheek. Then he slipped a hand inside his blouse and took a nipple in a pincer hold, shaking it. "She's got nice little titties, though. Yeah, you like it when I hurt those titties, dontcha?" He put another hand under Lindsey's chin, brought his head down and flickered his tongue against the man's resisting mouth.

Darla adopted a breathy, weepy voice. "But she knows it's wrong. She knows she's proved herself to be a disgusting, cunt-licking lesbian."

Lindsey met Darla's yellow eyes, the green of his own burning with hatred. His voice was gratingly low as he said, "At least I'm not a fucking hypocrite."

The vampires laughed uproariously at that. Angelus shook his head as he looked at his captive. "Ah, she's just playing with you. Neither of us care who fucks who in this world as long as it's nasty and we get to watch. And I used to pay whores to lick each other in front of me _before_ I became a vampire so who's the fool now? Did you really think I'd object to Darla screwing other women?"

"But it's done the trick, alright," said Darla. "He's engaged. Look how hard he is."

"At last! Quick, before he loses it."

The female vampire stuck her forefinger in her mouth then pressed it deep inside Lindsey's anus, curling it upwards to stimulate his prostate.

Despite himself, the humiliated young man gasped and pumped his hips. The next thing he knew, strong hands were lifting his legs up over his head and Angelus was wanking the shaft of his poor cock, directing it at his own mouth. The faces of both vampires could clearly be seen, Darla's monstrous features looming between his thighs while Angelus peered up from the side of the bed, a 'yay' grin on his face as he pulled on his prick as if milking a cow. He wasn't wearing his vamp face. He'd figured out over the past few weeks that Lindsey hated it all the more if he looked like Angel while he was abusing him.

"Your skirt's around your waist, you shameless whore. You deserve everything you get. Poke that asshole, Darla. Make him scream."

It wasn't right. It should never happen. But as his spirit was torn apart by their laughter, a dark joy surged through the rent and flooded his being. He yelled like a woman – painfilled, chthonian cries – as he thrust his shaft into Angelus' firm hand and allowed his own semen to splatter into and across his open mouth.

"Swallow it! Swallow it!" his abusers cried.

He did, gulping it down, disgusted and thrilled simultaneously. He was a heavy cummer and there was so much of it. He licked up what he could reach and the rest slid down his chin. Angelus kept up the grip on his cock and shook it until every last drop had oozed out and dripped on him.

"Yeah," said Darla, slowly withdrawing her finger and pulling his legs back down onto the bed.

Angelus bent over him, smiling like he was very pleased indeed. "Well done, little cunt," he said and slapped him one last time.

Lindsey didn't try to move. He lay there in his own cum with his asshole spasming, fighting back the tears.

Angelus stood up and straightened his black shirt, then kissed his beloved fellow vampire. "So now we're back on track, what next? What horrors have you been dreaming up for our little sex toy?"

Darla's face morphed back into its human guise. She looked fresh-faced and delicate again. "Mm," she mused. She bent over Lindsey once more and took his waning hard-on in her hand. "See this structure here?" she said, running her finger along the ridge on the underside of his cock. "That's his urethra."

Angelus laughed. "I'll go get the sounding rods."


End file.
